


and she drank the kiss with bended head

by leihei (sysupportgroup)



Category: (여자)아이들 | (G)I-DLE
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, Multi, Polyamory, mentions of trauma, the terrifying burden of immortality and also shuhua
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26130619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sysupportgroup/pseuds/leihei
Summary: “Missed you too,” Soojin mumbles, feeling a little shy when Shuhua takes in a sharp breath, peering up at Soojin with her wide wide eyes wondrous, “what, don’t hug me so tightly.” She shoves at Shuhua defensively, purposely gentle and she knows Shuhua knows. “Go set the table.”“Unnie!” Shuhua whisper-screams and vibrates in excitement. She presses a loud messy kiss to Soojin’s shoulder blade and then detaches herself just as quickly, practically skipping to the kitchen in her elatement.Miyeon stares mournfully after her, “She never gets excited when I say I miss her.”“Because I don’t!” Shuhua bellows.Soojin meets eyes with Miyeon and raises an eyebrow. Says flatly, hands on her hips, “Because you spoil her.”Miyeon smirks knowingly, “Well I knowIwasn’t the one who caved into her dinner request.”Soojin bites down on her lip, arms crossed defensively as she flusters for an answer. Finding none of the tip of her tongue she just makes a non-committal noise and slinks off, head down and ears burning at Miyeon’s giggle trailing after her.Sometimes her wife really does know her too damn well.
Relationships: Cho Miyeon/Seo Soojin/Yeh Shuhua
Comments: 18
Kudos: 119
Collections: Girl Group Jukebox - Mixtape Round





	and she drank the kiss with bended head

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to the mods for organising !! i will build this tag brick by brick if i must !!
> 
> title from the songs of bilitis, translated by pierre louÿs  
> inspo from i choose you by sara bareilles

Soojin doesn’t like going out into the world. Too many crowds, too many stares, too many people shrinking back from her when all she wants to do is buy some groceries.

She’s not even  _ eating  _ them.

But what Shuhua wants, Shuhua gets. And if that means that she wants seaweed soup  _ and _ fried rice, apparently that means that Soojin is the one who has to be dragged out the door by Miyeon because after all this millenia, her wife still has no idea how currency works. 

“Ooo, shiny!” Miyeon squeaks, pulling at Soojin’s arm for her to stop. She stares longingly into the window of a cosmetic shop and its display of glittery eye shadows. “Can we - “

“No,” Soojin says brusquely, pulling her along before anyone on the street can notice that their reflections are refusing to show up in the mirror affixed to the display, “market then home.”

“You’re so boring,” Miyeon whines but obliges, trotting alongside Soojin like she’s still twenty-three instead of two hundred and three, “live a little, Soojin-ah.”

“Can’t live if we’re dead,” Soojin says grimly, adjusting her mask and pulling Miyeon’s floppy hat down further over her face. The sun is out and even though they’ve slathered on the sunscreen repellent, Soojin is still paranoid from the last time Miyeon missed a spot and ended up smoking slightly in public. It was during the March 1st movement and things were too chaotic for anyone to have noticed but it still makes Soojin’s still heart leap into her throat everytime they bear the risk of going outdoors, “we’re just going to grab what we need and leave, got it?”

“We’re already dead,” Miyeon sighs sulkily but lets it go, “do you have the list?”

“...didn’t you make the list?”

“I did and I told you to grab it from the counter!”

“When!”

“This morning when - “

Miyeon cuts herself off, pulling her bottom lip between her white teeth tenuously as she comes to a realisation, “Ohhh, you were on the phone with Shuhua.”

Soojin sighs, pinching her nose. She loves Miyeon, has learned to love her in that tremulous gravitational manner that only comes when you’ve been accompanied by the same person for so long, but sometimes she gets tired and needs to take a break for fifty years or so. 

“It’s fine, we’ve done this before,” she resolves anyways and seeing the chastised downturn to Miyeon’s lips, pecks her quickly on the cheek in forgiveness before dragging them back on track, “I remember most of them anyways and whatever we forget, we can get Shuhua to pick up on her way over.”

“Okay!” Miyeon perks up immediately, linking her arm tighter with Soojin as they get the market. There’s a vendor in there that knows the two of them, a sweet ahjumma who probably knows of their true nature and doesn’t spurn them despite it. She gives them a little extra of whatever they need sometimes, accompanied by a wink of her clear bright eyes, and Soojin remembers that humanity has its diamonds amidst its rough.

They wander the wet market with eerie precision, never lingering too long at one stall. It only takes one person getting a little too curious about why they’re wearing sunglasses in a covered area to get exposed and potentially chased out and Shuhua has been pestering them for  _ days  _ to cook for her. 

Seaweed, brisket, garlic, eggs, prawns. They sweep them all up in a circuit, finishing at the stall that the friendly ahjumma usually inhabits to greet her. In front of them today though is a different face. Soojin takes a few steps back and checks the name of the stall - curious, it’s the same.

“Are you looking for my grandma?” The young man asks, half-checking his phone as he stares at them lazily. 

“You’re her grandson?” Miyeon asks curiously. “Yeah, we’re her regulars. Where is she today?”

“In the hospital,” the young man says, flopping himself down on a tall stool, “she had a bad fall the other day. I’m taking over, maybe permanently.”

Soojin’s fingers tighten where she’s holding Miyeon’s hand and her wife hisses from Soojin’s strong grip. 

“Was the fall bad?” Soojin asks, voice small. Over the many years, she imagines she should be immune to the idea of death by now. Too many mortals have waxed and waned for her to count, every one of them leaving her behind. A better immortal would be numb to it but yet here she is, a fledging once again being confronted with the peaceful smile of her younger sister on her deathbed, hair silver whilst hers stayed black.

“Dunno,” the man shrugs callously, “Dad reckons we should just put her into a nursing home even if she recovers.” He smirks. “She’s kinda nutty anyways - one of those bloodsucker sympathisers, you know?”

A cold rage settles, a fragmented reel plays back: Set upon by Japanese and Koreans alike in the mess of colonisation, hunted down wherever they ran; her’s and Miyeon’s shack, just far away to blend into the fringes of the city, vandalised and alight in Hwaseong 1987; eviction without a cause in 2001, landlords turned friends turning them out onto the streets, robbing them of any home they had ever hoped to make.

Humans have always been unkind to those like-but-unlike them. 

Like-but-unlike them though, humans are much more fragile. Blood and bone is easy to crush, it’s surprising that they go so easy despite their hatred being so stubborn. 

Her hand is outstretched, eyes clouded red before she knows it. Soojin feels the stirring of something old, ancient, terrible in her. Knows with startling clarity she could be the monster they imagine them to be.

She takes a step forward.

And then Miyeon giggles, high and girly. One hand around Soojin’s wrist, holding her back, countering Soojin’s strength with her own. 

“Is that so?” Miyeon says sweetly, measured as she removes her sunglasses and lets her eyes flash red in warning. She picks up an apple, cradling it gently. Her nails, sloppy but painstakingly manicured by Shuhua last weekend, dig into its glossy red skin and with barely a twitch of her wrist, it bursts. Juices roll down her hand and drip, sticky, onto the floor. Smiling sharp, she leans over the counter to decorate the man’s head with its innards, using the chance whilst he’s still transfixed to wipe her hand off on his apron too. 

“There are so many ways for mortals to die,” Miyeon sighs with a flutter of her eyes and the sight makes Soojin come back to herself, half-thankful half-regretful for the intervention. As much as Soojin likes to pretend she’s the one in control, there’s no mistaking that Miyeon is the older between them, tempered over the years to incline more towards subtle threats and less to the dangers of rage, “you’re so lucky to have that variety, you know? Makes us want to get creative.”

His pupils dilate, eyes shifting back and forth in fear as Miyeon slips her non-sticky hand in Soojin’s. She wiggles her fingers in a mockery of a goodbye, “Mind that you take care of your grandmother - we’re looking forward to seeing her back here. Blink twice if you understand what I’m saying, hmm?”

He blinks twice, even managing a little nod. 

Miyeon slides on her sunglasses and blows a kiss, always one for the dramatics. 

Soojin is the one who pulls them out silently, off they go at a fast to medium pace before the transfixion wears off and he’s either passing out or screaming bloody murder. Neither of those options are optimal.

They’re one block away when Miyeon, once again filled with all the liveliness of a puppy, turns to Soojin and bursts out with, “Wasn’t I cool!”

Soojin looks at her for a second before swiftly turning her eyes to the ground, fidgeting with her mask. If there was blood under her skin, she’d be blushing. Says soft: “Yeah, you were.”

//

Shuhua is in a state when they let her in that evening, earlier than they expected. She whirls through their door with her hair ruffled and backpack half open, threatening to spew a volcano of pens out.

“Ahhhh!” She proclaims, before flopping on the cushions face down. 

Miyeon squeals and flings herself on her, snuggling her cheek against the top of Shuhua’s head.

“Unnie,” Shuhua groans, trying to push her off. It’s useless, the way it always is when Miyeon chooses to use her supernatural strength for the universal good(?) of smothering Shuhua with her love, “let me go!”

“Is that what you say to the person cooking you dinner!” Miyeon shrieks, wrapping a leg around her only for Shuhua to struggle fruitlessly like a bug ensnared in a spider’s web. 

“Soojin unnie did all the cooking, stop lying!”

“I helped! Soojin-ah, tell her! I made the rice!”

“She made the rice.” Soojin repeats obediently and Shuhua just groans, slumping listlessly to let Miyeon cuddle her.

“There we go,” Miyeon coos, “was that so hard.”

“Yes,” Shuhua grumps, pouting and angling her lips out of reach when Miyeon tries to peck her, “I want a kiss from Soojin unnie!”

“But  _ I’m  _ here,” Miyeon wheedles and Soojin flits her eyes back down to where she’s ladling soup out into small bowls for her and Miyeon, a big one for Shuhua. She doesn’t quite understand the dynamic between them, that strange push-pull, but she’s starting to learn that there are things she doesn’t need to understand in this world. The eternal chase for answers may be more tormentous than the knowing of them, “one kiss! Mwah, mwah, mwah!”

“Unnie!” Shuhua groans but then there’s the sound of a quick peck, light as a baby bird settling, and Miyeon’s resulting squeal of happiness. It makes Soojin smile, something that lightens her up a little after the matters of today, takes her brain off overtime in its efforts to figure out the logistics of having to skip town on a day’s notice if they have to.

She takes the bowls out to the table, laying them out as Shuhua and Miyeon tussle in the background. A shriek as Shuhua breaks away from the couch, pattering towards her like a moth to a flame. 

“Soojin unnie!” Small hands creep around her waist in a backhug, a warm cheek pressed to her cold shoulder, “I missed you!”

“What about me!” Miyeon calls miserably from the couch but Shuhua just grips Soojin tighter, sticks out her tongue at Miyeon from behind the shield of Soojin’s body. 

“Missed you too,” Soojin mumbles, feeling a little shy when Shuhua takes in a sharp breath, peering up at Soojin with her wide wide eyes wondrous, “what, don’t hug me so tightly.” She shoves at Shuhua defensively, purposely gentle and she knows Shuhua knows. “Go set the table.”

“Unnie!” Shuhua whisper-screams and vibrates in excitement. She presses a loud messy kiss to Soojin’s shoulder blade and then detaches herself just as quickly, practically skipping to the kitchen in her elatement. 

Miyeon stares mournfully after her, “She never gets excited when I say  _ I _ miss her.”

“Because I don’t!” Shuhua bellows.

Soojin meets eyes with Miyeon and raises an eyebrow. Says flatly, hands on her hips, “Because you spoil her.”

Miyeon smirks knowingly, “Well I know  _ I _ wasn’t the one who caved into her dinner request.”

Soojin bites down on her lip, arms crossed defensively as she flusters for an answer. Finding none of the tip of her tongue she just makes a non-committal noise and slinks off, head down and ears burning at Miyeon’s giggle trailing after her. 

Sometimes her wife really does know her too damn well.

//

“Where’d you get this?” 

Shuhua’s head is in her lap, tilted to the side as a terrible romcom flickers on screen. Soojin trails cold fingers over the left side of Shuhua’s cheek, tilted towards her and the ceiling, where a fresh scar stretches all the way into her hairline. It’s covered by concealer, melted away by sweat over the course of the day, and by the way Shuhua’s hand flies up to cover it, Soojin knows it must mean nothing good.

“Get what,” Shuhua tries for flippant, voice sounding wrong in its hesitance, “it’s nothing unnie.”

“Baby?” Miyeon traces circles on her shin from where she’s got her legs propped up unceremoniously in Miyeon’s lap. “What is that? Did you get injured somewhere?”

“Nothing,” Shuhua flaps a hand, nervous laughter as she bolts up and sits tight in the centre of the couch, one hand still cupped protectively around the left side of her face, “it’s nothing.”

Soojin stares Shuhua down intensely, a tendril of fear wrapping around her chest, teasing at her darkest nightmares, “ _ Shuhua _ .”

“Unnie.” Shuhua digs her heels in, stubborn. She swallows and Soojin can hear the  _ thump thump thump _ of her little heart speeding up, drowning her ears with the rush of blood. 

“Let me see.” Miyeon says soothingly, one hand wrapping soft around Shuhua’s wrist and Shuhua... Shuhua flinches, scared.

...Of them? 

No, never. Soojin shakes her head free of the plaguing thoughts. The rational side of her gives Shuhua too much credit for that but she still can’t rid herself of the tendrils constricting tighter, nightmares sprawling tangible. 

Fear does not touch a predator and yet Soojin has encountered it far too often today. It carries a certain sense of foreboding and she does not like it. Not one bit.

“What happened.” Miyeon says, unable to hide the thread of tension in her voice. “Shuhua?”

“Nothing!” Shuhua bursts out defensively, eyes flicking between the two of them pinning her between them. “Hey, you know I hate it when you two gang up on me!”

“Did someone hurt you?” Soojin says brusquely, choosing to ignore Shuhua’s whine. “Who? At university?” 

The tendrils morph into cold chains, heavy and suffocating: March 1st, Hwaseong 1987, Seoul 2001.

“Was it related to us?”

Shuhua falls silent, tellingly so. 

“Who do we hunt,” Miyeon growls, knuckles going white on the red of their crappy couch, a hint of fang sliding out, “baby, who do we - “

“No one,” Shuhua says curtly, “sit down unnie, I dealt with them.”

“ _ Who do we _ \- “

“I dealt with them!” Shuhua glowers, kicking her feet in a tantrum. “Why don’t you believe me!” 

“But we - “

“Have all sorts of cool powers, yeah I know.” Shuhua rolls her eyes, fed-up, “Doesn’t mean you need them to deal with some species-ist dickheads. In fact,” she puffs her chest out like a boastful little kitten, “since I dealt with them without any kinda powers, doesn’t that make me  _ more _ powerful? They’re all in hospital y’know, I beat them up real good.”

Miyeon takes a moment but she goes so easy. Softens up like butter under hot sun, pulls Shuhua into her lap and kisses her plush cheek, right over the arching scar, “My hero.” She murmurs and Soojin can physically see the way Shuhua’s ego swells bigger with the flattery.

“That’s right,” she grins, white teeth blunt and fearless, “you know they think that I’m like your pet, unnies? That you’re the ones keeping me?”

She drops her eyes, coy and brazen, crawling across the couch into Soojin’s lap and presses her into the cushions with her body. She presses a kiss to the side of Soojin’s mouth, teasing, and draws away slowly. Predatorial, even, “But you’re mine aren’t you. Both of you. And I defend my people.

She flops back in Miyeon’s lap, feet in Soojin’s, and sprawls out like she owns them, “Don’t be scared, unnies, I’ll protect you.”

They should laugh, Soojin and Miyeon. A human protecting them seems ridiculous, naive even, a baby kitten baring its teeth to protect its lions. And yet, it leaves Soojin with a strange sense of comfort, the fear from earlier ebbing out of her slowly. She meets Miyeon’s eyes across the couch and they share an embarrassed fond smile for the girl in their laps, stubborn and overconfident in all the worst-best ways. 

Shuhua whines something about getting back to the movie and Soojin and Miyeon can do nothing but oblige, letting her take all the liberties in their laps and later their bed when she coaxes them to feed with that proud little grin.

The years have drained Soojin of many things: her reverence for life, her faith in humanity, the sting of the first betrayal. Yet not everything has been robbed from her - she still has her Miyeon after all, and now Shuhua. Has the patience and temperament to love them, reserves big enough to overflow with the affection she squashes-denies-celebrates. Still has the capacity for happiness, a surprise she rediscovers each and every morning she wakes up to her lovers’ faces. 

Shuhua jabs her in the stomach with the point of her big toe, Miyeon complains about something in the background, and Seo Soojin is content in the now, surrounded by love. She hopes in the tomorrow that it will be enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading please leave some comments or kudos if you liked this <33


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